


Through Every Rock In The Cliff

by yingsu



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Confused Will, Consensual Kink, F/M, Hannibal is Hannibal, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Mental Anguish, Mild Painplay, Multi, Oral Sex, Post-Season/Series 03, Rough Sex, Sassy Will, Some Will/Chiyoh, Someone Help Will Graham, inner turmoil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-10 11:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5583331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yingsu/pseuds/yingsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 3.</p>
<p>
  <i>“You have the magnificence of the Greek gods.” He observed, “Perhaps the Renaissance artists sculpted them in your own image?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Will smiled. A genuine smile so rarely seen in him. He turned his head and kissed Hannibal palm.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“But this Greek god is lazy and disobedient.”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I've never seen Will and Hannibal having a happy ending right after the Cliff. This is the story of how (I see) they came to be together and learned how to stay together. It won't (shouldn't!) be easy: there will be sex, blood and violence and it will be phenomenal mental process for both, but specially for Will. What would you do if you were Will Graham?</p>
<p>Chapters will be relatively short, concentrating in very specific mental and physical scenarios.<br/>Please comment! <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Waters Divided

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NyuKeehl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyuKeehl/gifts).



> I found very stimulating to write in English (my 2nd language), but I don't have a beta reader!  
> I'll be happy to have a volunteer for dinner, I mean, to beta read for the next chapters!! :)))
> 
> First time posting a fanfic, please be kind! ;)
> 
>  
> 
> PS. This is a gift for Nyukeehl, she's responsible that I finally made myself to write this!

“I’m either done or twice fucked.”

Will could just laugh at his own reasoning, but the stiffness in his right cheek prevented him from doing so. Stating the obvious has always been the first step in problem solving, but now, in that gloomy place, was nearly the dead end of everything. Or, perhaps, his life was a really _really_ bad joke.

The room was dull. Something very far from Hannibal fancy style, just the epitome of basic efficiency. A table, two chairs. Phones were on the floor, charging, plugged to a connector in the opposite empty wall. A couple of travel bags laying two steps away of the main door. As the rest of the apartment, the room was grey and unfriendly: much like a safe house is expected to be. Something discreet, hidden in some boring alley. In the room, heavy dark curtains hanged by the windows, blocking almost every bit of sunlight. Only a strip of orange light dared to cut through the cloth, across the table, dividing the room in two halves.

In one side of the room was Will, sat in one of the chairs, eyes lost in the blinking red LED of one of the phones. On the other side, was Hannibal, likewise sitting on the other chair, his eyes fixed on Will. (In the past couple of months, Hannibal eyes had been always fixed on him, to the point that now they seem to be his most loyal company.) The room was completed by a third figure, situated near Hannibal’s left side, standing and, firmly holding her Remington 700, safely kept inside a leather sheath. Chiyoh was in there as quiet and silent as a pale marble statue would be, merged with the motionless room. The whole room appeared to be waiting for a signal to ignite, burn and, disappear in dense black smoke.

 

The three of them were waiting. Waiting for something or maybe expecting someone. The thing is, Will was also _deciding_ . Will had been in a continuous state of “taking _that_ decision” for several weeks already and, he was running out of time. But something, somehting inside him kept resisting. He only had to take the plunge… or be done!

“I surrendered 167 days ago.”

“And I took my defeat off the cliff.” Very interesting way to surrender, indeed, submitting by not submitting. (But, did he have any other option?) And, of course, with their survival to the fall, a fall that should have been the very end of everything, some issues arose. Issues that were now looking at him intensely, with glassy and baggy eyes.

  
Needless to say that Will was immensely annoyed by his current situation.


	2. His hand. Her kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex, and gender, are fluid.

“You will stay.”

Will woke up to the smell of wet dust, the feeling of raw sheets and Chiyoh’s heavy accent. The painful reminder of his healing injuries came right after.

“Until he wakes up.”

Will opened his eyes to a grey world of naked walls and sad betrayal. The slim silhouette of Hannibal's hound in front of him. “I'm thirsty.” was his thought.

 

Will woke up again that day, at night. The room was empty and he was extremely thirsty. He tested his muscles and worked his way outside the bed. How much time had he been unconscious? He stretched like an old man in his steps towards the door. Once in the corridor, a light popped out the room next door, like a welcome signal. Will followed its guide.

 

Will injuries had been less dangerous  _ this _ time, and certainly, less problematic. Not like last time. The decoration Hannibal left in his belly required quite a long convalescence period. This time, though, healing was fast. Only a weakness in his right shoulder and a troublesome cut in his face, remained.

Hannibal, on the other hand, was a different conversation…

“He is still very weak. He barely made it out of the ship. The wound got infected. He lost too much blood.”

For Will, that was an alien picture, mundane figure of a sick man, that to the eyes of many, including himself  — despite himself — , was that of an unearthly God.

“He might be out of danger now. The fever dropped a few hours ago.”

Chiyoh was using many words to speak and Will was having problems to assimilate the situation. Will approached the bed with a mixture of denial and curiosity. For all the time they shared, Hannibal and Will, that image of vulnerability never had a place. That, simply, could not be.

Will took and held Hannibal's hand. The image of  _ their fall _ run in front of Will’s eyes, as he closed them. He remembered falling, the violent crash with the water, the force tearing him apart from Hannibal embrace, and blacking out. He remembered waking up in his own boat. He remembered not being surprised, not at all, not even after seeing Chiyoh there. He would, even in his weak state, construct Hannibal’s escape plan, and find it...  _ obvious _ . Sure, probably that didn’t went exactly as he predicted, but… there they were. Will consciousness was fluttering, his own thoughts adrift. Chiyoh was talking to Hannibal, but Will did not hear their exchange. “Be sure he stays.” Hannibal had said “chain him if necessary”. Given the relative seriousness of their wounds, ensuring that Will stayed was his only way to keep the situation under his control. Just instants after Hannibal collapsed.

 

“You will stay.”

Chiyoh approached him. Placed her hand softly on Will's face, on top of the band-aid there. She was very near and he felt her warm presence, her touch, as pure peace and serenity. He wanted to feel cozy in it, and he marvel at the effect she managed on him. 

“Until he wakes up.”

Only when he looked at her, she kissed him. Softly.

“Last time you kissed me you threw me off the train. Shall I expect the same on this occasion?” Will voice sounded rough, he needed to break their strangely intimate proximity. Cautious and suspicious to such pleasantness.

“Only if you attempt to leave before he awakes.” Her hand moved down towards his shoulder, to the place where two injures, past and present, mixed together: one of them a reminder of Chiyoh’s loyalty to Hannibal. A flimsy unkind squeeze and Will felt like a well-trained dog.

_ He stayed _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorrynotsorry, I also ship these two ;)


	3. The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's inner turmoil continues. What will he do?  
> A hint: he is walking down a path to be "twice fucked" if you know what I mean ;)
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR FANNIBALS!  
> xoxoxo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the fact that Chiyoh shipped these two, literally and figuratively :D

Will stayed. He spent the days of their recovery by Hannibal’s side, waiting for him to regain consciousness, seeing the colour slowly coming back to him after days of ashen pale sweat. Will worried about him, and worried about himself too.

In all that time, in Will’s tumultuously shaken mind, his reasoning looped and only one assertion repeated itself, again and again: “I’m fucked.”. He hated that, he hated the loop. He hated his own mess. Will had been trapped in that wheel for the past years. Between the Will of three years ago and the present one there was only a difference. Now, at least, _he knew_. It took him a while, yes, and too much pain. He learned it the hard way: in the sharp, metallic violence of the folding knife. In the eyes of the man that claimed him, just months after. Will moved his hand to his mark in his belly, absentminded. The touch of the scar was his foundation. It was his acceptance of the fact that _he loved Hannibal_. His hand pressed and moved slightly down. Tentative. _And Hannibal loved him_.

And as if only that was messed up... There was  _ the cliff _ . Killing Dolarhyde. No.  _ Enjoying it _ , destroyed his every hope. After all his attempts to get away from it, to have a normal life! He just run back to it, to him, when the first opportunity arose, just as Hannibal anticipated. Because he had hoped, until that moment, it was only that: Some ridiculous version of love. But, oh god… Will lowered his head in shame. He cringed over his knees, his forehead almost touching Hannibal’s bed. It was not just love, something inside him enjoyed the fight with Dolarhyde and that feeling terrified him.  _ It was wrong! _

 

The cliff had been his answer. His desperate way out. Self-destruction. The beast, the beast, Hannibal and Will made together, had to be destroyed. Even now, that was, obviously, the only way out. He had to kill Hannibal. He had to. Ah, he would probably enjoy killing him, wouldn't he? But… it was too late. His fixation towards Hannibal, the monster within himself.... The link, the gravitational chain, that made him orbit around that evil murderer in front of him. It was too late for him to destroy the beast,  _ was it? _

Will let go pained howl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still need a beta reader, you see that...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. The Social Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here is the true question: love and desire vs responsibility.
> 
> Last two times, Will chose his responsibility towards his society and morals. He did so when he planned Hannibal's entrapment, even though he told him to leave (that phone call, that made Jack and others suspicious). And he did that again when he tricked Hannibal to turn himself (I imagine their first time together was that day in Will's house). So Will was "strong" enough to try to put Hannibal under control two times, while he was "weak" enough to help him (1st time) and yield to his own desire (2nd time).
> 
> But now they know they love each other, so... how will this evolve?

Hannibal woke up and saw Will by his side, curled up, his face hidden. For a second, Hannibal’s eyes, tired and foggy, looked at Will with an unavoidable fondness. Just an instant after, his face changed. He moved his hand towards Will’s head. His expression became ugly, in part due to the sudden pain brought by the wound in his side, but also due to the memory of Will’s second betrayal. His hand momentarily caressed Will’s curled hair and quickly twisted to an angry jerk, forcing his head to rise, and to Will to look at him. The signals of Hannibal fever disappeared behind the murderous cold eyes and killer instinct. He was angry. Very. He wanted to smash Will, right there, with all his force, break him into pieces and… but he was also terrible weak and tired.

 

Will spoke first. “I have to kill you.” (Ha!) Something in Will’s face made Hannibal click and his hand crossed Will’s face with ridiculous strength. The slap resounded in the room and scarlet painted Will’s cheek. “I believe you rather see me killing you first.” Will eyes turned with an electric spark, as he stood. “ _My compassion for you is inconvenient, Will._ ” Hannibal echoed.

“This cannot be.” Will stepped back agitated, denying with a gesture of his hand his own situation. He looked at Hannibal with the remaining of his past persona lasting in a turmoil. He stopped there for a moment and then, approached the bed once again, uncertain. There was a pause and Will blinked. Then, his face turned red, furious, finally reacting to Hannibal slap. He had been in a dazzled state for days and Hannibal had just woke him up from his own poignancy. Seeing him, there in the bed, weak and strong at the same time, put Will back on his own feet. And, just like that, he was sure: Will was very _very thirsty_ , indeed.

 

“I feel…” Will started, breathing inside his own cage, “behind all destruction and pain, passed your evil manipulation and all the wrong that has been done,” Will extended his open hand towards Hannibal, as if only by doing that every influence would be stopped or erased. “I think that now is the time for me to say what I want.” Will laughed, his mouth open like a slit of ferocious teeth. In front of his eyes, the movie of what was going to happen next paraded in a fanfare of brass instruments and percussion.

 

“And what do you want, Will. Do you know now?” Hannibal face was calm now, no real energy left to keep his ire for too long. Will shook his head trying to get back to earth.

 

“You are... the plague, you… like a wind of velvet fireflies... that has devoured my soul. I am not myself anymore. And yet, I cannot be without you.” Will closed his eyes, lowered his hand and his head. “Only by killing you, I can be saved. God, there is no need for me to survive that.”

 

Hannibal stretched in the bed, pressing his head up in the pillow. His face showing in a grimace what his voice was not allowed to tell. “For all my work, Will, I could not conceive such a waste for the education I provided. Did I truly lose my time with such a disappointing apprentice?” there was a silence between the two, they kept their eyes on each other. They said more in those moments that with every conversation they had have till then. “Despite my respect towards Socrates, I cannot appreciate his acceptance of his own death, imposed by the laws and morals of common humans.”

 

“The ‘Social Contract’?” Will looked at him surprised. There they were again, having conversations, like that was the most natural thing to do, for both of them. Why it was so easy, when he was with Hannibal, to just forget everything. Why?  “Others argue Socrates simply did not fear Death.” Hannibal didn’t even care to answer that, he was right and Will knew it. Will was blocking his own desire, his own nature, in order to be faithful to his own principles. He only had to admit it.

 

Will raised his head again. His semblance resolute.

 

“But there is something I know _I want_.” he offered a shy smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!


	5. Like a Blue Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is Lust personified in this chapter, and he does not care ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this part was hard... still is.  
> I hope you enjoy it

With one knee of the bedside, Will ignored Hannibal’s pained grunt, and jumped on top of him. “Despite everything.” he continued, “I’m at least taking  _ that _ .” Will took Hannibal wrists over his head with his right hand. His face, that over their brief discussion travelled at the speed of light, from fury to worry, showed now only lust. He leaked his lower lip, he bit it. His own internal mess circling in his eyes in waves of energy, fueling them and turning them on like lighthouses in the night.

“Damn you, Hannibal.” Hannibal looked at him with a mixture of anger, awe, amusement and pain. With a twist of his arms and another gesture of pain, he freed one of his hands to press on Will’s right shoulder, where the wound was still fresh and painful. “I know this game, Will.” his own strain looked like silver sweat on his forehead, his voice was lower than usual. “Better than you.”

Will was now on top of Hannibal, his knees firmly pinned to each side of Hannibal hips. With his free hand he pressed on Hannibal’s side, just enough to make him jump and drag another cry from him. “I will bring you hell, Will.” Will laughed at it. “Not today.” He was looking directly at Hannibal eyes. For a moment, Will contemplated how far he could go that night, given the strength the doctor had shown so far. “Today  _ I _ bring you hell, Hannibal.” Will smiled, his expression evolved to the pure pink affection that his cheeks showed. He bended over Hannibal, pressing their foreheads together. Hannibal smell him, in their proximity, with hunger. They both did. 

 

Their lips touched. “ _ This _ I know.” and Will shivered.

 

As they stayed like this, breathing each other with the hunger of a man lost in a desert, Will fingers splayed along Hannibal’s neck, tracing their way to his shoulder and then to his chest.  Will closed his eyes. With a soft wet kiss, he initiated a trip with his mouth, as his hand continued its own along Hannibal rib cage towards his side. 

 

Hannibal responded to Will endeavour with a futile attempt to free his bounded arm and using his free hand to hold Will head by the back of his neck, pressing and caressing his smooth curly hair. He pushed towards Will, pursuing his lips. All movements in vain, when Will, with a evil grin pressed on Hannibal’s side, over the bandages, rendering him still and gasping, again. 

 

Will’s bites on Hannibal jaw and neck were in appreciation to the doctor’s masculine features. Soft and hot lips over his skin. Closing his eyes and leaking Hannibal earlobe, Will sighed warmly in his ear, dragging a deep moan from the doctor. The younger man sucked eagerly, drowned in desire, claiming, no, demanding, Hannibal’s body passionately.

 

Will’s hand drifted down, passed Hannibal’s belly, sliding below his shirt, warm hands stroking Hannibal’s hair there. By the time his hands were busy removing sheets and pants, with his aim clear, Hannibal pulled Will’s hair, forcing his face towards him. 

 

“Your eyes on me, Will.” Will obeyed and his eyes locked on him, like a blue fire. One hand still firmly grabbing the doctor’s wrist, the other in the quest for his cock. Hannibal hold his cheek, gently, studying Will’s face, eating his eyes. 

 

This was not their first time, but was certainly the first time Will initiated it. The memories of their previous encounter were still able to send Will’s mind into pure chaos. Will opened, button by button, Hannibal’s shirt, from bottom to top, his mouth travelling now across his ribs, like counting then. His eyes still on Hannibal’s. 

 

“Can a man be addicted to something only tasted once?” He leaked, tasting Hannibal skin with the excitement of a dessert tried for the first time. He bit. He sucked. “Have I not yearned for this? For years?” Freed of clothes and sheets at last, Will took Hannibal’s already half hard cock in his hand, moving in tender strokes.

 

“I let you know where to find me.” moaned Hannibal. 

 

Will raised his head. His hair was messy, his face graceful, and he looked to Hannibal utterly charming.

 

“You are insane.” His knuckles became white around Hannibal’s wrist. Despite everything, Will was still miffed. “You are destructive.” Will hissed, then kissed him, furiously, in an energy burst. “The bloody Devil you are, and yet, can’t you truly... Don’t you really understand?” He rocked his hips pressing all his weight on Hannibal, rendering pleasure and pain all together, pressing his own clothed dick there where Will’s hand was around Hannibal’s, still stroking.

 

“I understand that blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your radiance.” Hannibal pulled Will’s hair again, “I can see that  _ that _ very same fuel burning in your eyes now.” Indeed, Will eyes were shining still, his head tilted to avoid the pain where his hair was tight. 

 

“ _ Can’t  you see, Will? _ ” 

 

Will twisted, trying to free his head from Hannibal grab. But Hannibal let Will go just to slap him right after. Hannibal liked the pleasure found in that, and the spurred reaction it seemed to rise on Will, who revolved around him like cat, tensing his muscles and rocking. “‘Not today’ you said.” Hannibal repeated, thrilled, and slapped again. “Perhaps another day then”. The strength was quickly abandoning his body, the same way it was feeding Will’s. The younger man gave him a twisted smile, aroused he rocked his hips again, against Hannibal. 

 

_ I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with you. _ The thought stubbornly orbiting around him.

 

Hannibal grabbed Will’s jaw pressing his thumb on his lips, tracing the shape of his mouth, feeling in his palm the bloom in Will cheek. Will opened his mouth to catch and suck Hannibal’s finger, kindly biting it with his eyes always fixed on him; eyes burning like torches with the amber light of the bedside lamp.

 

Hannibal rejoiced in Will’s lust and playful expression. Engaging in his passionate game at last. The Will that minutes before was by his side overwhelmed by doubt and shame, had now disappeared. Instead, the one that stabbed Dolarhyde, was in front of him. Will amused eyes and his attentive mouth were exquisite and made Hannibal forget, now definitely, his own ire, his own reservations, and his own feelings of betrayal. 

 

Brought by instincts, Hannibal feinted a rocking gesture in response to Will strokes that stopped with a sudden whine of pain. “Hush, now, Doctor.” Will was absolutely transformed. In fact, Will was now exactly what Hannibal had predicted him to be. 

 

“Didn’t you want to kill me.” half-joked Hannibal now completely playful. The young man sucked the tip of Hannibal thumb before letting it go with a sonorous  _ pop _ . 

 

“I will.” Will promised, as he lowered his head towards Hannibal tight. 

 

The younger man placed his hands over Hannibal hips and bowed his head. Will parted his lips and licked the very tip of the doctor cock, his other hand still rubbing it. He looked at Hannibal while his lips surrounded Hannibal’s cock. Will smiled, naughty, pressing the tip of Hannibal’s cock with his lips, softly, playing with his tongue. Will put it fully inside his mouth, his flat tongue caressing the lower part. Hannibal held Will’s head with both hands free and buried his cock inside Will’s mouth. His fingers in Will’s rebellious brown curls, causing pain on Will’s scalp, pushing him further, nearer. Hannibal moaned. Will swallowed, taking it all, deeper and deeper. 

 

“Lustful, Will.” 

 

Will purred as he started to move his head, up and down, swallowing Hannibal’s cock.

_ Is lust in action; and till action, lust. _

Will continued, slowly, in a fascinated rithm, caressing with his tongue the sensitive skin, the warm touch of Hannibal cock. Will tasted pre-cum of Hannibal’s hard bursting member. Will progressively increased his speed, burying Hannibal member more and more in his mouth. Hannibal was now moaning and rocking in synchronized pleasure. 

 

Hannibal pressed deep inside Will’s throat, with his hands immobilizing him and, making him gag, pushing Will limits, blocking his breath. Will endured, gasped, his face red, his eyes wet. He closed his eyes and Hannibal released him.

 

Will found air in deep breaths, with his forehead resting on the doctor's side.

  
“Bare.” Hannibal said, “I want you to stretch yourself for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious, that was Sonnet 129:
> 
> The expense of spirit in a waste of shame   
> Is lust in action; and till action, lust   
> Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,   
> Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,   
> Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight,   
> Past reason hunted, and no sooner had   
> Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait   
> On purpose laid to make the taker mad;   
> Mad in pursuit and in possession so;   
> Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;   
> A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;   
> Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.   
>  All this the world well knows; yet none knows well   
>  To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. 
> 
> ....  
> I think Will knows what this means the hard way, isn't it?


	6. The Greek God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who thought a continuation of this story could never happen: I'M VERY SORRY!  
> Let me excuse myself by saying that I moved house, country, job and life in between!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this continuation (two chapters in a row, yahoo! :)
> 
> Let me insist on the fact that I don't have a beta reader and I am in urgent need of one!

Will frowned in doubt.

“Bare. I won’t say it again.”

Will raised on his knees. The back of his hand by his wet lips. For a few seconds he did nothing more, then he moved off from the bed to stand. Carefully and with slow movements, he started to undress. He undid the belt and opened the fly of his jeans.

“Your eyes on me.” said Hannibal sharply.

As his hands moved to his hips in a sign of lowering his trousers, Will looked at Hannibal with the gesture of someone that has been boorishly extracted from his profound thoughts.

In bitter response to Hannibal’s order, Will unceremoniously removed his jeans and pants, discarding these and his socks on the floor.

“Let me see you, Will.” Hannibal said. “Show it to me.” Hannibal moved a little up in the bed in a pained motion, using a pillow to keep his head tilted. From his new perspective, he observed Will.

Will was hard.

And his mettle shaky, collapsing at times. Will uneasiness was obvious in the round of his eyes. Will hands moved towards his T-shirt to raise it and show. To show Hannibal everything,  _ everything  _ there to  _ see _ . A shiver crossed Will’s body when, to the light of the room, his nude belly exhibited  _ the smile _ . Hannibal relished to the view: Will’s beautiful member warm and hard, his legs, his tight, his hips and his stomach, moving with every harsh breath. But overall, he relished on the cruel mark that he had left there. His own mark.

Will took the T-shirt off and stood completely bare, looking at Hannibal.

Hannibal remembered their first and only time and pursued this memory with elation, as so many other times he had done, in Will bitter absence. He has kissed Will in every corner of his body, has licked every inch and every injury, delighting in every drop of blood he could drink from him, the ecstasy in which Will had succumbed. Hannibal counted in his memory: the sharp line in Will’s forehead, the small incision in his cheek, the bullet hole in his left shoulder, in destructive symmetry with that older one, in Will’s right shoulder. The scratches...

“Shouldn’t you avoid rudeness and say ‘please’, Hannibal?” Will eyes were shy, cheeks red, but his expression someway cocky. Hannibal ignored Will rebellious comment, in complete adoration of the younger man features. “You are as beautiful as…” a pause, “none of my drawings will ever make you justice.”

Will bit his lower lip as his hand moved towards himself. He caressed and stroked, his mind drifting, his own embarrassment knocking his mind away.

“And  _ here _ ,” Hannibal grounded, “you will show me, and you will do, as I say, because  _ that _ is what you want.”

Will came back to the world around him, to Hannibal, with a subtle frown in his forehead. The doctor voice resounded heavy like stone and emphatic like one of the Ten Commandments.

“Show me how you’d prepare yourself.”

Will climbed to the bed, as before, both men looked at each other, enjoying the sight that the other had to offer. Will bended over Hannibal, holding himself with a hand in the pillow where Hannibal head rested, the tips of their cocks touched and instantaneously a spark crossed their bodies.

Hannibal raised his hand to Will’s face.

“You have the magnificence of the Greek gods.” He observed, “Perhaps the Renaissance artists sculpted them in your own image?”

Will smiled. A genuine smile so rarely seen in him. He turned his head and kissed Hannibal palm.

“But this Greek god is lazy and disobedient.”

Hannibal grasped Will hair and pulled, enough strength there to hurt.

And Will giggled to this.

Care and disdain. Pain and affection. Love and vengeance. They mixed all concepts, flexing them, until forcing the extreme sides of Human nature to collide in a violent embrace.

Just like that.

In an instant that was made  _ forever _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep reading, keep reading!!  
> <3


	7. The Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bon appétit!

Will sat back, and then reached forward to the bedside table. In the first drawer he found the lube. Will dedicated a second to judge his finding and directed it towards Hannibal, arching one eyebrow.

“You couldn’t possibly expect less.” Hannibal noted. Will sighted.

They let their cocks rub together. Hannibal held them in this hand enhancing the friction that Will hips rocking granted. Will moved his right hand, already slippery with the lube, to his back, to his opening, but stopped there:

“I don’t…” Will attempted, in shame and pink cheeks.

“Do it Will.”

Will used his hand to hold his ass and his middle finger to access his ass entrance. He massaged there for a few moments, not certain, in his own inexperience, on how to proceed, frowning in concentration and looking at Hannibal. In a smooth movement followed by a gasp, Will introduced his finger inside. Will lips parted and the noise that left them was pure sensual eroticism. For a second, Hannibal thought he could just come from it. Will dropped his head on his chest, letting his wavy hair hide his face. But Hannibal wouldn’t allow it and, with a hand on his chin, he raised his head.

“Eyes on me, boy.”

Will grasped and rocked his hips again, instinctively, holding his breath,  _ looking at Hannibal _ .

“Stretch.”

Will’s hand obeyed.

“Breath.”

Will did.

Hannibal caressed Will cheek, nearly petting him.

“Now. Add a second one.”

Will moaned.

“Lovely noises you do.”

Hannibal did not need to see what Will was doing from a different angle, everything was already showing in his face. From shame and pleasure to pain and strain. The display Will offered in front of him was a piece of art itself, something that would turn around in Hannibal chest, like a wave of warm blood.

“Can you put a third one, Will, for me?”

Will bit his lip again, flustered, and then nodded. Hannibal stroked harder their cocks in response, granting pleasure but avoiding for any of them completion.

Will groaned louder this time. With three fingers inside, his whole body was shaking in response, in hot waves of sweat and moans.

“Breath.”

A pause.

“Breath, Will, and move.”

Will breathed. Will moved and he stretched. His whole body fell towards Hannibal in weakness.

“Hannibal…”

Hannibal stopped Will by grabbing his hand, as well as Will’s attention. In an exquisite kind gesture, Hannibal kissed Will fingers and then, in a contrasting movement, he took Will by his hips and pushed him forward. Will fell on him, on his hands and elbows, their faces so near they could breathe each other.

Hannibal ignored his own pain and the red colour appearing in his bandages and smoothly but with a sudden slide, he entered Will.

Will gasped, his eyes opened wide and found Hannibal dark darts fixed on him, an estrange shine painted on them, mingling pain and fever with enchanted pleasure.

“Hannibal…” Will cried, “you’ll break y…”

“Me… or perhaps you?” Hannibal said as he continued rocking, moving in and out of Will, who followed his rhythm in harmony.

“Ah…” Will sobbed.

Hannibal answer was a rough growl. Hisses and moanings gravitating around them. They were both already so near. So much brought to the limit, either by their minds or their bodies. Pleasure somewhere up in the highs of Heavens bless. Pain bringing them together with the power of the very foundations of the Earth.

Will misty eyes of blue fog opened even further with the feeling of Hannibal utterly deep inside him.  Their lips so near they could touch, breathing, sighing… sobbing. A shiver, like a surface earthquake, made their bodies tremble like small bits of stone on a metal surface. The frequency,  _ that _ of a deep musical note produced by a cello in a wet dark cave. Hannibal grunted, pain and pleasure so perfectly blended. Will hold his breath. And both, in unison, came together, Hannibal deeply buried inside Will. Will pressing his face on Hannibal’s. Sighs, moans and tears and shivers.

They stayed like this for a few moments, Hannibal’s arms folded around Will, in a soft embrace. Their heartbeats slowing down, their humid breaths becoming tender kisses.

“You’ve been the end of me.”

“Reciprocity.”

Will sat up, Hannibal still inside him. His hand carefully touched his side, over the worryingly reddened bandage, conquering a hiss from Hannibal. Will curled over and kissed over the bandage. Pressing softly but driving agony to Hannibal. The blood dyed his own lips.

Will licked his lips, his mouth darkened by the blood, a particular shine on his eyes:

  
“We are the very end of each other.” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are coming back to the first scene soon.  
> I'll do my best to bring more over the weekend.

**Author's Note:**

> How was it? I feed on your comments!
> 
> Next chapter soon!


End file.
